Author: Mirrordance
Title: For Every Evil
Summary: Legolas is a policeman in 2004. His colleagues start to wonder why the 10-yr veteran doesn't age & more trouble ahead after he runs across the Fellowship & some friends in modern incarnations, resurrected along with a new world-threatening peril.
36: Breathless
Finn Baggins and Sam Granger's Quarters
Deck C,
The Amazona,
The Black Sea
"Tell me that's not what I think it is," Brad said, eyes wide. Finn seemed just as stunned as himself, but the young Brit said nothing, immediately and irreverently using the much sought-after Ankh to loosen the knots on Brad's bindings.
"Finn, hurry," Sam said in a low voice, "We must go."
The young Brit untied Brad with a flourish, and the older man rose up and stretched his arms over his head and his legs before him. He glanced at the Ankh clutched tightly in Finn's hand.
"That's not supposed to be here, is it?" he asked.
"No," Finn replied.
"Keep your hands on that," Brad said, and led the way to the door. He peered out into the hall, ensured that the mercenaries were busying themselves with their other hostages at the end of the corridor, and motioned the two young men forward.
"What about Pip and Mark?" Finn whispered.
"They'll find their way," Brad said confidently, "You must look after yourself and what you carry. Go!"
Brad let Sam and Finn lead the way, jogging away from the mercenaries at the end of the hall, nearer to the ship's portside. They headed for the starboard stairwell and nearly collided with Aragorn and Elladan.
Sam and Finn, not recognizing them, yelped and stepped back. Brad hastily put one hand over each of their mouths and said to them soothingly, "You are with friends."
The pair calmed somewhat, though they inched closer to Brad as if they've trusted him forever and didn't just free him bare moments ago. The American found it amusing.
Aragorn's eyes lit at the sight of Samwise, Frodo and Boromir together. But he said nothing as he ushered the three into the stairwell and closed the door behind them.
"Aragorn," Brad said in a low voice, "Adrian. Whatever. You'll never believe what Finn Baggins has in his hands."
The young Brit hesitantly opened up his palm and showed the new arrivals the Black Sea Ankh.
Aragorn dared not touch it, as before in an older life. He simply beheld it with awe, and its holder with even greater respect. "How did you come upon it this time, Frodo?"
Finn glanced at Sam nervously, uneasy over all these strange names and far stranger circumstances and far far stranger people.
"In Doctor Malcolm's room," he said tentatively, "Sean Malcolm."
Aragorn frowned. "This is news to us. For we thought that it was not he who stole the Ankh but was his cousin, the other Doctor Malcolm."
"I found it in his quarters," Finn said, "That is all I know."
"We have the Ankh and we have the hobbits," said Elladan, "And we even have a ship. We left the Ino anchored on the starboard side, incidentally exactly the side which is closest to our present location. If we can just get up to the sundeck, climb down that rope ladder by which we came, raise anchor and haul ourselves out of here. What say you?"
"You say you have the hobbits," inquired Brad, "Mark Brandy and Pip Took as well?"
"Our friends," said Sam urgently, "Are they safe?"
"Yes," Elladan replied, before wincing, "Or as safe as all the rest of us, I suppose. The comm. links are out, but last we checked, they were with some fine warriors. We should trust them to follow the plan. They will do their part, and we must do ours."
"To the Ino," said Aragorn, leading the way up the narrow stairwell.
A Commandeered Putt-putt,
The Black Sea
The sight stirred in him a strange… memory of a dream, he decided, for there seemed no appropriate term. The sight was nightmarish in quality, a story he's heard of, a tale he knew, a tragedy close to his heart, but something he's never actually seen unfold before his eyes such that his mind oft conjured up all sorts of strange versions and the version this night must have been just one amongst many he's imagined ages ago.
Except it's real…
The old man's body fell as if it fell forever.
It's like a dream, and it's like a memory, but it's not my dream and it's not my memory…
"Gandaaalf!" Peregrin Took exclaimed, his scream slicing across the stormy night, slicing through across ages of memories, slicing across time, and space, and all the knowing and unknowing of his mind and body.
Peregrin Took was awakened in 2004 with the same pain that showed him in the 3rd age that truly, bitterly, inescapably, even a small hobbit of little renown, little ambition, little cares, was to have his slice of the great tragedies of the world.
He jumped into the water.
Pippin swam for his life and the life of the old friend he dearly loved, eyes intent upon the spot where he saw Gandalf fall. He defied the waves and the winds and the salt that stung his eyes. Dimly, he heard Merry's frantic cries behind him. But Merry was safe, and Gandalf sorely needed him.
He swam like a madman, and stopped only when his hands collided with another frenzied swimmer. At first, the twenty-first century part of his brain cried Shark! But when he gasped and pulled back, a frowning, soaking wet wizard was glaring at him.
"Fool of a Took!" the Istari exploded, "What are you doing in these cursed waters?"
"You're alive!" Pippin exclaimed, "Gandalf, I saw you, you were shot, and you fell—"
"I wasn't shot and I didn't fall," the wizard said primly, "I saw him aim and I jumped. There is a very significant difference."
"A significant difference," Pippin echoed, laughing and crying in relief, and the old man's eyes softened, realizing that he was very much remembered by the infamous hobbit.
"Come now, Pippin," said the old man, "I do believe we have an escape to make."
The two old friends swam for Elrohir's putt-putt.
The Sundeck,
The Amazona,
The Black Sea
Emmett chuckled, swiping carelessly at the blood that leaked from his cracked lip. He had pushed himself up to his elbows in a struggle to look over the metal bars of the railing and he clearly saw the wizard being pulled into the vessel by Mark Brandy.
Grima Wormtongue, fresh from his victory over Eowyn, Eomer and Faramir, at last found the heart to tear his conquering eyes from them and looked over at the water himself.
"Will he not simply die?" he cussed, aiming his gun once again and commanding his mercenaries to do the same.
Emmett kicked at their legs and sent them sprawling and struggling. His sister was after the same brand of mischief and between the two of them, they managed to distract their annoyed captors long enough to hear the dimming sound of Elrohir's commandeered vessel as it sailed off away from the Amazona.
Helicopter,
Over the Black Sea
As soon as Legolas saw that they were nearing the Amazona, he pulled himself up on the landing skid. Instead of just dangling by his arms, he sat upon the slim metal as one would sit upon a horse, securing his legs on the bar. He was not yet detected, settling on the far end of the landing skid and away from eye view of the open cabin door. He pondered his situation carefully.
Three men to fell inside the cabin, trained mercenaries armed to the teeth, with Dean Malcolm right smack in the middle of everything. Two pilots, each with easy access to communication systems that could be used to make the other mercenaries aboard the Amazona aware that he was coming.
He frowned. He'd take the pilots out of the equation first, of course, because he wanted to somehow sneak into the Amazona. But from where he was, there was no getting to the pilots until he took care of the others, which would then make the pilots aware of him, and then send a quick message to the folk aboard the Amazona and defeating the purpose altogether…
He narrowed his eyes in thought, shortly before springing into action. He jumped aboard the cabin, diving right into Dean Malcolm. He embraced the doctor tightly, and used the doctor to shield his body, knowing the mercenaries wouldn't dare shoot the prize. The stunned mercenaries stared at him as if he was some demon sprung suddenly from the black of the night, and he shot at the speaker ends of the headsets that the pilots wore. Two shots from his gun, clean and precise, not unlike any of the difficult shots he's made along the course of his warrior's life. When one of the pilots reached out for the hand-held radio on the console, he shot at the man's hand, and then at the contraption, just before pressing his still-smoking gun against the temple of a terrified Dean Malcolm.
"Keep your silence," Legolas ordered the mercenaries, "And take us to the Amazona."
Deck B,
Starboard Stairwell,
The Amazona,
The Black Sea
Elladan pressed his ear to the door that stood between the stairwell they were in and the Mess Hall beyond it. "They are herding all their captives into the cafeteria," he declared.
"I hear Eowyn, Eomer and Faramir amongst them," Elladan added more gravely, after a hesitant pause, glancing at Brad with some uncertainty, for both Boromir and Brad was known for a great love of that brother, not to mention a famous impulsiveness.
He should not have doubted, for the man's determination was clearly focused. "We must first get the young ones out of harm's way."
"The other hobbits are not with them," Elladan reported, brows creasing. He was unsure of what that meant; were they killed, tossed over water? Did they hide or escape? They were supposed to be with Eowyn and Faramir… and what was Eomer doing in there without Elrohir and Gandalf? Are Mark Brandy and Pip Took with them instead? So where was the four of them?
Blast the damn comm. links, I'm like a cursed addict. I desperately want them back…
The Hotel
Sinop, Turkey
Haldir of Lothlorien took a deep breath as he stepped out of the lobby and to the rotunda of the hotel. The rains were harsh and therefore most of the 'freed' guests awaited their chauffeured cars under the shade. Crowded as it was, he was pleased over being out in the open air again.
Jimmy Goran beside him was smoking a cigarette right next to the trash can. As they predicted, all of the hotel guests were soon released to do as they wished. First, because they've been kept long enough and there was nothing left to do with them, no place left to search within the confines of the hotel. Secondly, it was because Dean Malcolm had gone missing, and though the first fear had been Kidnapping!, there were greater murmurs of him likely being the thief who escaped.
While most of the ball's guests lingered only until their transportation arrived, Haldir and Goran were not rushing at all. Their quarry—Sean Malcolm and Bob Baggins—was also waiting for their cars to arrive.
Anatalia Craxi walked up behind them, having come from securing more car rentals for them. She kept a set of keys to herself, and handed the other to Haldir.
"Seedy place a block from here, right?" she asked, almost tersely, for they sort-of agreed (although she was mostly bullied) into work delegation some minutes ago and she was once again assigned away from the action.
"Room 411," added Goran.
"All right," she said flatly, wanting to kick herself for letting them order her around, and then wanting to kick herself again for being so uselessly annoyed—she knew what she was capable of, just as she knew her limitations all to well and therefore, she had to know that this was the job she had to do. She sighed, touching the Interpol Agent's shoulders, "I'll do what I have to."
"I know," Haldir said impishly, smirking at her.
"You remember how to set up?" Goran asked, "It's actually very simple. Basic stuff. The wires are very--"
"I know how to work your laptop, Mr. Goran," she said, "Not to worry. Thank you."
"Be safe," Goran said to her.
"Me?" Anatalia exclaimed jauntily, "I'm not the one headed off to mad adventure, sir. Crazy quests by crazier folk." Her tone turned pensive, "I do fear… that this night may end and I'll find I'm all alone suddenly."
"We won't let that happen," said Haldir.
"With any luck," added Goran, "We'll be leaving this country a few more friends and not less, eh?"
The Sundeck,
The Amazona,
The Black Sea
Grima Wormtongue emerged from the portside stairwell after ensuring that all the prisoners were properly secured in the Mess Hall below. He was informed that the chopper bearing Dean Malcolm has been sighted, and was beginning the descent down to the helipad of the Amazona.
He watched the chopper as it landed, his heart pounding in mad anticipation, almost near to bursting at the thought that he was just so, so near to power. But more than power, all the ages have led up to this point, his victory, the sign of his ultimate freedom. He was at last his own master.
If only that blasted thing will land quicker, he thought irritably.
In an impatient huff, he stalked forward toward the aircraft as it stilled, rotors still whirring over his head. He stopped short at the cabin when he sighed Legolas of Mirkwood looking at him coldly, Dean Malcolm locked in his dangerous embrace.
With a cry of frustrated rage, Grima Wormtongue stepped back from the cabin door, glaring daggers at the elf.
"I should have had you killed," Grima spat out darkly.
"You should have had me killed," Legolas echoed coolly, waving the gun at him almost casually, as he stepped out of the cabin and onto the Amazona's deck, never relinquishing his hold on Dean Malcolm.
The Sundeck Level,
Starboard Stairwell,
The Amazona
Aragorn frowned as he peered from a crack on the stairwell door. "I hate that showy elf," he muttered under his breath.
Elladan just smirked at him. "I'm not so sure, brother, I find I'm loving him more by the minute. I do believe old Legolas is furnishing us with the perfect distraction to take our young friends to safety. The moment we step out onto the deck, the Ino is just a rope ladder away."
"Good," said Aragorn, "We will therefore do as the others have done. Ferry them to shore, brother, and look after Masters Samwise and Frodo. You are the only one of us who can handle that craft. Boromir and I shall stay, to aid Legolas and our other friends."
"Understood," said Elladan, though he was displeased with the idea of fleeing the 'battlefield,' he also was not foolish enough to argue the logic.
"Have a care for what you carry, Frodo," Brad said to the young man at his side, patting his shoulder reassuringly. He turned to Aragorn with steely eyes, "Lead the way, man."
The Sundeck,
The Amazona,
The Black Sea
"You won't shoot him though," Grima said, attempting a confident tone, ending up with a snide, embittered remark with an undertone of panic and helplessness, "It is not in you at all, is it, Prince Legolas? What do they say these days, hm… you don't have the goddamn balls."
Legolas almost smirked. He was a cop in L.A.; he's heard far worse things said of him. "I know what my failure means, Wormtongue. I will do what I have to. Trust in that."
Wormtongue scowled at him, said nothing. His eyes were darting back and forth, as if he was struggling to figure out a way out of his considerable predicament.
"Your guns to the ground, now," Legolas ordered him.
Wormtongue remained still, trying to stare his foe down. "Now really, elf. Give me some credit. If I lay my arms down, the Ankh will never come into my possession, I'd be arrested, go to jail, et cetera. If you shot Dr. Malcolm for my disobedience—which I doubt but let us speak theoretically here—I might have lost the Ankh, but not my freedom. And with that freedom, I can have this barge turned inside out in my search. But best of all, with that freedom I can satisfy my ire and dispose of you slowly, and agonizingly. Which do you think I prefer?"
"You won't have the time to scour the Amazona in a search," Legolas pointed out, "A ship cut off from contact for so long courts the coast guard. Dispose of them and you'd have quite the problem with the authorities, and you can't just vanish off the face of the Earth with a barge like this. You can't find the Ankh in the short time afforded you, and you'll eventually get caught. Let us put it this way, Wormtongue. You've been defeated. I have an alternate proposition."
"What would that be?" snapped Wormtongue.
"Cut your losses," Legolas said swiftly, "Take your chopper, leave this barge and hide off to wherever the hell you want. Leave us alone. I'll catch you some other day."
Wormtongue snorted at him, but seemed to ponder it. To flee would give him his freedom, yes, not to mention a chance to try and reclaim his prize some other time. But the taste of failure was always bitter, downright foul. After all these lives and all these ages, to once again simply follow in the wiles of someone else was making his heart ache and his head pound with inexplicable fury that was blinding and consuming.
He turned his back on the elf, as if to turn his back from the situation altogether. The event was quickly turning out into one more impotent frustration, ultimately the story of all his cursed lives. His body trembled, his hands fisted at his sides. He was going to burst, he knew it, he was just going to explode, and all of him will wash over the Amazona in the fiery red of all his insides…
He was going to cuss at the skies for his cruel fate, but as his eyes drifted up, it fell instead to the navigation tower he ordered a small group of his mercenaries to take over.
Lightning streaked across the turbulent skies, making the tower look ominous to others, but heaven-sent to him. He caught the shadow of one of his mercenary snipers, taking careful aim.
And he smiled.
The Docking Bay,
Black Sea Coast,
Sinop, Turkey
Haldir and Goran sat low in their rented car, staring over the dash as Bob Baggins and Sean Malcolm stepped out into the docks, running from the rain to seek the shelter of a shed. They were apparently looking for the Ino to take them back to the Amazona, but of course the Ino, unbeknownst to them, was commandeered earlier in the night and was already out at sea.
Sean Malcolm drew out his cellphone, speed-dialed some number or other, waited awhile and then ended the call, with some frustration. It did not seem as if he got through.
The heads of the two scientists shot up at the approach of a vessel, eyes lighting up in the hope that it was perhaps theirs. Haldir and Goran looked as well, hoping that it was a craft that carried their friends; who else would be mad enough to sail this stormy night?
They were not disappointed. The scandalously fragile-looking… thing was barely docked when Mark Brandy and Peregrin Took burst out of it and onto land, trailed by Gandalf. Elrohir soon followed behind them. The group of four ran toward the shed underneath which stood Bob Baggins and Sean Malcolm.
Haldir and Goran glanced at each other, before wordlessly stepping away from their car and jogging over to the shed as well. They arrived in time to hear Bob Baggins exclaim,
"Philip Took!" Bob asked in surprise and with a tinge of disapproval, "What are you doing out here?"
Pippin glanced at Gandalf, apparently learning (somewhat) from all the age-old memories he reclaimed this one telling night, that he ought to think first before answering such questions. Gandalf, eyes amused but also calm and determined, gave him an encouraging nod. At this point, no less than the plain truth will suffice. They were running out of time.
"A bunch of armed men took over the Amazona, Doctor," Pippin replied in a rush.
"They are looking for your Ankh," Gandalf piped in.
"Who are they?" asked Bob, looking searchingly into the wizard's eyes, "For that matter…" he asked, voice sinking to a mesmerized whisper, "Who are you?"
The Sundeck,
The Amazona,
The Black Sea
Legolas could not have noticed Grima Wormtongue's relief, for first, the man's back was to him and secondly, he was distracted by the cautious stepping forth of Aragorn, Elladan, Finn Baggins, Sam Granger and Brad from the stairwell door. He breathed relief, but said no word to them, barely nodding in acknowledgement as he concentrated on his task.
He heard the subtle rustling as guns were trained in the direction of his friends, and his tightened his grip on the trembling Dean Malcolm and he raised his voice to catch their attention.
"No harm to them," the elf said threateningly, "Do not even think it." He watched his friends walk slowly and cautiously to the railing, where a rope ladder hung over the Ino below. Aragorn led the way, and then stood guard as Elladan descended quickly down the ladder. The Rivendell elf, touching ground on the deck of the Ino, assisted Frodo and Sam who followed after him. Brad held the rear, but did not follow down the ladder. He stood beside Aragorn in guard of their departing allies.
Wormtongue spared them a single, careless glance. He did not need them, and he certainly did not need the aggravation of keeping them around. He'll get all that he desired soon enough. A manic gleam touched his eye.
Aragorn's gaze darted to and from the mercenaries that surrounded them. The stalemate was a highly charged one, aching to burst, aching to break. So focused was he on this that it was Brad who caught the glint in Wormtongue's eyes upon Legolas.
The man raised his arms slowly over his head, as if to surrender.
Lightning streaked over the skies, and Brad caught a glimpse of the sniper on the tower.
As Grima's hand descended quickly, as if to signal the release of fire, Brad dived toward Legolas and Dean Malcolm, sending all three of them to the ground.
He did not feel the fiery bite of the bullet on his back until he was on the deck, breathless and bleeding.
TO BE CONTINUED…
Hey guys!!! Thanks for the c&c's. keep 'em coming if you can, I know we're all pressed for time. I'm ¾ of the way through chapter 37 and am very much nearing the end of this story. I think I will be able to finish it before I leave. Which is a vast relief for me, not only as a writer who values discipline, but also because I know if I don't hop to it, some of you might kill me, haha. Thanks so much, you guys. Evetytime I hit a bump in the road I check out your reviews and they really really lend me fire. So. 'til the next post!!!